Holding Out For Tomorrow
by artificial-paradises
Summary: Celia Monroe had been separated from her sister for 7 long years, and now things were changing as the two were reunited and starting over in the quiet town of Beacon Hills. But when Celia begins to look into some mysterious events centering around two troublesome boys, she starts to believe the town may be anything but quiet. [Eventually Stiles/OC]
1. Prologue

**Hello! Thank you so much for deciding to read this story! It seriously means the whole world to me. I've still got lots to learn when it comes to writing, but hopefully you can find this story entertaining! The prologue has nothing to do with Beacon Hills, but don't worry, because chapter 1 will dive right in on the action. I'm starting from the beginning, aka season 1, so I hope you enjoy the ride. **

**Big thank you to everyone who read my previous Teen Wolf story, as this is a remake. **

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Prologue:

There's a moment, right before you wake up, when your eyes open and you're caught in a daze, having absolutely no memory of the night before, of anything really, but it only lasts a couple seconds. The one pure moment of every morning, the one I hold no recollections of, has been the best part of my days. Sometimes I wish it were longer, I wish I could travel through that daze for hours upon end, going nowhere in particular, just enjoying the feeling of it.

I lived through so many of my days like this, hoping that one day I may truly forget everything that's ever happened to me and I'll be able to start anew. But today was my exception, today was the day I wanted to remember, because for once my life had been worth remembering, the future worth living.

My name is Celia Monroe. I'll spare you the details of the sob story that goes along with it. Basically I had lost my parents as a kid and got tossed around in foster care. I was one of _those kids_. You know, the ones that end up as delinquents or drug dealers. The ones that are said to have no future. The ones that your parents probably asked you to stay away from. The ones that are always blamed for things they may not have even took part in. The ones that get punished more severely than others. I guess you can say I'm one of those kids, but I wasn't one for stereotypes, and frankly being a sad foster kid wasn't something I'd always aspired to be. Instead, I wanted to be happy, so happy that I'd have no way of containing all that energy inside my tiny teenage body and I'd be forced to spread it with the world. I wanted to be wild. So wild and carefree that anybody passing by would have to smile at how ridiculous I am. But that's who I wanted to be. It had always been in me, but the past few years of my life were making it hard to show it. That is, until today.

I was sitting around on the floor in the bedroom of my latest foster home, doodling pictures of dogs when my foster mom walked in with a letter. I had a feeling she was going to tell me I was done, leaving her home for good, being abandoned yet again. I messed up a lot so I could see why she was going to do it, but instead she sat on my bed and told me about my sister. Not my foster sister, my actual blood related sister. I hadn't heard from her since after our parents died and we got separated, thrown into two different foster homes, and yet she managed to find me. She was like that lost puzzle piece that was needed to complete the picture. Now I had it, and now I was ready to start again.

In her letter she talked about all sorts of stuff, specifically her life right after college and the house she managed to buy. And with her new accomplishments she asked for me. Wanted me to live with her, the sister I had last seen when I was still a troublesome four-year old. And I wanted to. Wanted to be with my sister, wanted to start over, wanted to wipe the slate clean and get my life together.

So I did. My foster parents didn't mind. They faked their sadness, I could tell. I knew they were really alright with my leaving, but it didn't bother me much because I was finally moving on.

I had to take a plane to California and was suppose to meet my sister at the airport to live with her in a town called Beacon Hills.

A wave of anxiety and excitement washed over me as I stared out the window of my seat in the plane. In my hands I held a leather-bound notebook, the one I usually drew in. My fingers were anxiously tapping on a blank page causing the pen I'd been holding to create a series of black dots on the paper. By the time I looked back down the dots consumed the top right corner of the page, but I didn't stop.

I tried to image my sister. Tried to imagine the clothes she'd wear and the way she'd talk. I wondered if she'd look like me, or if I'd remind her of our parents. I couldn't wait to meet her, but couldn't help worrying about whether or not she'd accept me. Pushing those thoughts aside, I turned back to the page in my notebook and started a drawing of a rose. Overhead I heard the pilot announce our landing, cueing everyone to put on their seatbelts.

I followed the crowd once I landed in the heart of California. My hand held on to my carry-on bag, swinging it lightly to match with my pace. I glanced around, taking everything in. It never occurred to me that airports are the witnesses to the most extraordinary acts of love. Around me I saw smiles on people's face. Saw them light up with joy after finding their friends and family. So many people are caught in embraces. So many bodies sharing passionate kisses. So many people, both young and old, crying tears of joy as they hold onto the people they've missed.

I tried to find a familiar face, something I found quite impossible when being swarmed by thousands of foreign ones. The crowd of people began to disperse as more and more people found their way to their loved ones. I stood waiting. Scanning what seemed like thousands of heads.

People held up signs. Little kids peered around eagerly for their friends, bouncing their bodies with excitement. It took a couple seconds, but the second I noticed a red head of hair I knew I had found my sister. She squeezed her way to the front of the crowd, holding a huge sign that read: 'Baby Sister, aka Celia Monroe.'

I looked up at her face, and she looked down at mine, and in that moment we knew, yes we knew we were related. I didn't know how, but I didn't care enough to question it, because in the next second my arms were wrapped tightly around her neck, and she lifted me off my feet, swinging me around like I was still a toddler. When we broke apart I saw the tears in her eyes, a huge smile plastered across her face. I heard her laugh as she wiped the tears that must have been falling out of my own eyes.

"I missed you," I'd say, and she pulled me into another hug, and we stood there for a moment, adding on to the air of happiness around us.

Ashley Monroe had the same nose as me, the same cheeky grin, too. But our eyes were different. Hers shone a deep blue, while mine were colored with green. I liked to think they were different because we had been apart for so long, seen different things, travelled along different paths. Her hair was a light shade of auburn and it stood out against my dirty blonde strands, glowing like fire. She was taller than I was, but then against most everyone is when you stand only 5'1''.

She grabbed my hand, like she used to when we were children, and we raced to the baggage claim, searching for my small brown suitcase.

I felt drunk.

Felt warmth spread throughout my body, reaching the tips of my toes to my ears, and every place in between.

I felt dizzy.

Overwhelmed by my sister's love and my own excitement, trying to balance my weight as we made our way to her car, my suitcase dragging along behind us.

I felt drunk and dizzy and overwhelmed with a barrage of emotions, but they were all different shades of happiness. My thoughts were plagued with such sickly sweetness that I couldn't believe they were even mine.

I walked beside my sister, getting in the car before her, words trailing out of my mouth at 60 miles per hour. She started her car and we kept our conversation going, not pausing to falter, or think, or breathe.

We were reunited after so many years and now driving through the busy highways of California on our way to our new start. On our way to Beacon Hills.

Time had taken so many things from us, but now it offered us more than we could have ever imagined.

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**I hope you enjoyed the prologue! Reviews would be amazing! I'd love to know what you think about this so far!**


	2. The First Day of the Rest of my Life

**Hello lovelies! The next couple of chapters are all going to be about Celia's first days of school. There won't be much Stiles/Celia interaction yet, but please bear with me! I also apologize for how late this chapter is. Every time I tried to write it, I would get really disappointed with my writing, but hopefully this didn't come out too bad. I am an amateur writer, so any critics would definitely help me!**

**I have a polyvore account under the same username (artificial-paradises) if you guys are interested in seeing Celia's outfits. **

**Also, a big big thank you to Charlie13, Shadow-wolf78, . , kittycat166, and Sweetgrlychck for reviewing! You guys are amazing!**

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Chapter 1: The First Day of the Rest of my Life

Summer with Ashley had been the best one yet. The long days left us with thousands of memories to create. We roasted marshmallows in the middle of the night, ate at least 5 scoops of ice cream on a single cone, jammed out to music from the 1980s, and therefore ticked off almost everybody in the neighborhood.

Our next-door neighbors were a rather wealthy bunch, though they we starting to reach the final years of their life together. Mr. and Mrs. Nelson had been married for 50 years, or at least that's what they tell me. Being with someone for that long, and still loving them the same way, well it was definitely something incredible. But now, they were growing old together, spending their time with an air of nostalgia. Mrs. Nelson would bake for us occasionally. I'd like to say she liked us, but I think we bothered her more than anything, waking her up in the middle of her naps with our loud music. I tried to make it up to them, offering to mow their lawn when I'd be forced to mow my own, and although they would refuse, I'd do it anyway.

Our other neighbor wasn't all too social, in fact, Joshua Creek was almost never home, and when he was it was hard to tell because his lights were never on, his house standing with a quiet that seemed almost eerie. Ash and I figured he worked for the FBI, mainly because whenever we'd catch a glimpse of him he was decked out in a suit with the glossiest pairs of black dress shoes you'd ever seen. He was also on the phone 24/7, and whenever we'd try to wave to him, he'd duck down away from our view and pretend to be occupied.

All the other residents of our street mainly kept to themselves, which was perfectly fine with me. Their secrets could stay hidden behind the safety of their houses. Sometimes though, when I'd walk on the curb of the sidewalk, always trying, but failing to balance my weight along the thin stretch of pavement, I'd catch a glimpse of a very peculiar car. It wouldn't always be there, neatly parked along the sidewalk, but when it was I'd always be tempted to look up at the house and try to figure out who drove it. The car was a Jeep, painted with the most random baby blue color. Once or twice I'd catch glimpses of two boys, possibly my age, but they'd always be rushing someplace so I'd never get a good look at them, or even a chance to introduce myself.

But now summer was drawing to a close, and although the air was still thick with warmth, autumn's crisp, cool breath greeted the town as it strolled in. And with the slow change of seasons came the promise of the start of a school year.

The day school started was the day my brain switched to overdrive and my thoughts scattered to every possible situation that could happen. The first day of school is supposed to make people nervous, but the chance of a fresh start excited me, so much in fact, that I hadn't even gotten a proper sleep the night before. I liked the thought that we all get second chances in life, because we always do, and forgiveness is in our nature. Today was my second chance, or sixth really, if you count all the foster homes I've spent my time with, but that's beside the point. Today was a chance to meet people, make friends, and hopefully not completely embarrass myself, because it was bound to happen anyway.

With all my thoughts put to ease and a sudden burst of energy, I jumped out of bed. I made my way to the bathroom, passing by my dresser, on whose surface my outfit to school was already laid out and ready. As I stood in the faint bathroom light, I couldn't help taking a long look in the mirror. My playful green eyes were as awake as they've ever been, darting around in their sockets and inspecting the canvas I had to work with. My diamond shaped face had a touch of color in it, thanks to the California sun. My high cheekbones helped to define my face, as did my button nose. The only part of my face I didn't particularly like was my mouth. I had thin lips, as opposed to the pretty plump ones Ashley was blessed with, but I guess we can't have everything.

I wasn't one to wear a lot of makeup, the reason being that I could never wake up early enough to have the time for it, but when I did I'd never pass it up. I treat makeup as a form of art, whilst other girls treat it as a beauty enhancing plastic surgery. But makeup was a tricky thing, and it worked wonders only if you knew how to use it. With it you had the ability to make yourself look different, and often it would show off your personality.

After splashing my face with cold water, I tied my short dirty blonde locks, not forgetting to clip my bangs back so they wouldn't interfere, and began the process. Strangely enough it only took 5 minutes to finish. I decided upon a light smokey eye look with a pale shade of pink added to my lips.

As I was throwing my makeup back into my bag I heard a light knock on the door. I opened it, greeting my sister who happened to be decked out in a pair of blue footie pajamas.

"Don't you look absolutely adorable today," Ashley said placing her hands on her hips and inspecting my makeup closely, "but, I've got to pee, so go get dressed up or something," she quickly added in, forcing me out of the doorway.

"Will do," I said as the door promptly shut on my face. It only took me a day to realize that Ashley was going to be my best friend. We had the same playful personality, although she was all book smart and science-y, which explains how she landed a job as a nurse at Beacon Hills hospital, while my talents lay in the artsy side of things, like drawing or painting. Basically, Ashley ended up getting the right side of the brain, while I was stuck with the left, not that I minded. At first I thought things were going to be awkward between us, mainly because of the huge age gap. Ashley was a good 7 years older than me, and although she was bossy sometimes, she was just a little kid stuck in a 24 year old body.

When I got back to my room I looked down at the outfit I picked out the night before, and couldn't help wondering if anyone would accept me. My sense of style was quite girly, but the main item people notice about my appearance can be found in my hair. I love to make crowns of flowers. I used to make them all the time with my foster families and I guess I just never stopped wearing them. They make me feel different and special, as lame as that may sound, though the crowns I wear are never made with real flowers.

Today I chose to wear a crown of yellow dahlias, paired with a grey dress and a tan knit cardigan. My shoes were some casual opened toe heels. I added a ring and raced towards the bathroom to curl my hair the second I heard Ashley slam it shut.

"So I was thinking we go out to eat for dinner today," Ashley suggested as I pulled out a chair to our small kitchen table, carelessly throwing my bag on the floor.

I clasped my hands together in excitement, "Yes! It's the perfect occasion." Ashley looked confused as she set down a plate of toast in front of me.

"You know," I started, my mouth full of toast, "the whole congrats-for-surviving-the-first-day-of-school-in-a-totally-new-town thing. That definitely deserves some sort of celebration. Plus, we could celebrate your first day of work!"

"Which was 2 months ago, but better late than never I guess," she said taking a seat opposite from me.

"Exactly!" I bobbed my head in agreement, stabbing my fork into the toast and trying to scarf down the meal. I couldn't risk being late. Not on the first day of school.

"Just remember today's the only day I can drive you." Ashley watched me eat, clearly amused at my excitement, but it didn't stop her from reminding me of the ground rules. "And frankly I'd never ever trust you with my car, so-"

"So I have to ride my bike," I finished for her, getting up and reaching for my bag. "You ready to leave or what?"

Ashley stared at me for a second before pointing a finger to her clothes, "I don't know if you've noticed but I'm still in my pajamas, so just give me a sec to change."

I groaned in response, collapsing into the chair. I closed my eyes for what seemed like half a second, until I felt Ashley shaking me awake.

I hadn't realized I dozed off for ten minutes, I swear it felt like a second, but it was in fact 10, and we were now officially late. Ashley apologized on the way to the school, and I tried not to be too upset with it, I mean _I _was the one that fell asleep in the first place.

"Listen, I'm so so sorry," Ashley repeated for what seemed like the 50th time.

"It's ok," I answered for the 51st.

I threw open the door once we had reached the high school, now completely empty, and free of any students. Sighing I made my way to the front of the school, adjusting my bag to hide the fact that I was more nervous that I thought. When I turned around I saw that Ashley was still there, watching me from the safety of her car. I gave her a quick wave, to which she returned and took as a cue to leave.

I swallowed a mouthful of air before opening the door to my new school, Beacon Hills High. I expected to face a crowd of unfamiliar faces, but what I didn't expect was to be completely lost. I stood awkwardly in the front of the school for a couple of seconds, not knowing which room was the main office, and seeing no one that could help guide me in the right direction.

_I did not think this through_ my conscience was telling me, as I weaved in and out of hallways, desperately searching for an important looking room. My pace quickened once I found someone at the end of a hallway, and luckily for me it was the janitor. That meant he couldn't trick me, at least I hoped not.

"Excuse me? Hi, I'm Celia, not that you care- but, I was just wondering if you could help me find the main office. I'm kind of new here, and I came in late, so I don't know where I'm going," I spurted out in a single breath.

The janitor was confused for a second, before his face shifted to one of amusement. "Just keep walkin' down that hallway. It's the first room to your right," he said, using his hand to point in the right direction.

"Thank you!" I breathed out, happy to finally know where to go.

By the time I reached the main office, got my schedule, and apologized excessively for my lateness, I had missed half of first period. My guidance counselor directed me to my first period class, since obviously I wouldn't have been able to find it. He was a tall fellow with locks of blonde hair and a serious expression plastered across his face. I was to have English with Mr. Hobson. His name enough sounded old and boring.

As I approached the classroom I presumed was English, my guidance counselor, whose name I hadn't gotten, gestured for me to walk in first. I did, opening the door to see a classroom full of kids staring at me. Mr. Hobson looked slightly annoyed to be interrupted in the middle of his teaching, but the second he saw an authority figure behind me the expression disappeared.

"Sorry for interrupting, Mr. Hobson," my guidance counselor began, staring at the sea of teenagers before him. "We happen to have another new student, Celia Monroe."

_Another?_ Another as in if I was actually on time I could have had the possibility to make a friend? I tried not to let this thought bug me, and instead focused on the crowd of teenagers staring up at me, eyeing me like hawks.

Without another word my counselor gave a curt nod of his head, directed towards Mr. Hobson, and left the room.

Thankfully I wasn't asked to say anything in front of the class, probably because Mr. Hobson was too eager to continue his lesson, and with a point of his finger I was directed to a desk all the way towards the back of the room.

The kid sitting in the seat in front of it had a wide smile on his face, though from what I could tell, he apparently couldn't sit still and was constantly tapping his pencil on his desk. It took me a moment to realize this kid looked vaguely familiar, as if I had seen his face before. The thought irked me because now I wouldn't be able to get it out of my mind. And I probably _had_ seen this kid around. I mean, I had been in town all summer, so I got to see a couple of its' teenage population.

I flashed the kid a smile as I walked past before collapsing into the vacant desk behind him. I didn't know what was going on, and it seemed that Mr. Hobson was right in the middle of explaining the class syllabus. I stared at my desk; very much aware of the fact that I didn't have one, but not wanting to interrupt I kept my mouth shut about it.

Mr. Hobson ended up being exactly who I thought he was- extremely boring. He was indeed old, but not old enough to need hearing aid, at least not yet anyway. And from what little enthusiasm he showed towards the class it was clear that he would rather wrestle a bear than teach a class full of teenagers.

While I had been off in La La Land, contemplating whether or not to actually ask for a syllabus, the paper was slammed ungraciously on my desk. I flinched at the sudden impact before my eyes rested on the kid sitting in front of me. He had somehow managed to pass his syllabus over to me, so loudly, but without even the slightest reaction from Mr. Hobson.

"Hey I noticed you didn't get one, so you can take mine," he said in very loud whisper. I'm pretty sure everyone heard him, but didn't care enough to say anything about it, or even to turn their heads towards him. I however was extremely grateful.

"Thank you," I whispered back, to which he gave a curt nod and turned back to face the front of the classroom, pencil still tapping rhythmically on his desk.

Quickly, I took out a pen and notebook and jotted down the important information from the syllabus he handed me. I was about to return it to him, finishing off the last sentence that I was writing, but as I titled my head up I realized the bell had already rung and the kid was gone. Biting my lip I shoved my notebook into my bag before following the rest of the classroom out the door.

Unfortunately for me the kid hadn't shared any other morning classes with me, and so come lunch, I figured I may as well try to search for him there. As I opened the front doors to the cafeteria I realized I had just stepped onto a war zone. Tables of kids were already filled and the chatter that erupted from the students was loud. All these kids had already known each other and were sitting with their friends, and here I was, standing uncomfortably, oblivious as to where I was supposed to go.

The back of a very familiar head caught my attention, and I found myself following it, until the boy sat down next to his friend, a tanner kid, with a head full of longer brown hair.

"Hi!" I said suddenly, making my paper-loaner jolt up in surprise, while the other raised an eyebrow in confusion. As the short haired boy recovered from his shock and turned to face me, his face put on a broad smile, hand leaning back against the table beside him.

"He-Hey!" he stammered, trying to play off his apparent surprise.

"You -uh gave me your syllabus for English, so I thought I'd just return it. Thanks by the way," I quickly fished out the paper from my bag, thrusting it at him so he wouldn't be able to hand it back.

"Oh! Are you- you sure you don't need it? I mean you don't have to give it back if you need it, I'm fine without one." His hands held onto the paper, lifting it slightly as if to he was about to hand it back.

"Yeah yeah, no it's fine. I actually just wrote down all the information I needed from it, so it's cool," I replied. I threw my bag over my shoulder before quickly adding in, "It'd be nice to know your name though. You and your friend," my eyes fell to the other boy whose attention suddenly focused to me.

"R-right! I'm Stiles Stilinski, and-"

I narrowed my eyes slightly upon hearing his name, "Stiles? If that short for something?"

I noticed his figure tense at my words, and I quickly regretted saying them. It was none of my business what his real name was. I mean not that it should be a problem, but from the way he reacted it definitely seemed like one.

"Uh-yeah, but everyone just calls me Stiles. So you can just call me Stiles. And this- this is Scott," he said clasping a hand on Scott's shoulder, who gave me a wave.

"It's nice to meet you two," I said nodding at the two of them. "First day of school and I already made two friends. Gold star for me." I heard Stiles let out a snort and the corners of Scott's mouth lift up in amusement. "Well I'm not going to bother you guys anymore, so uh- thanks again for the paper and I'll see you around," I added, walking away before the two had a chance to say anything else.

I didn't want to interrupt their lunch, and since I was the 'new girl' I didn't want them to be forced to ask me to sit with them. So instead I made a beeline out of the cafeteria and rushed into the bathroom, hiding in the furthest stall I could find.

Nobody was in the bathroom when I entered, so I ate my lunch in silence, sitting on the cold bathroom tiles, my knees held up against my chest, and my arms wrapped tightly around them.

The first day of Beacon Hills didn't suck. Well not completely. I _had _managed to make two friends. Actually scratch that, I believed I had made two friends. I had no idea how those two boys felt about me, but I couldn't help feeling like I was going through déjà vu. I was more convinced now that I'd seen those two around. I just couldn't put my finger on where.

But here I was, sitting on the bathroom floor, behind the limited safety of a single stall, avoiding talking to people and definitely not making friends. Halfway through my stay in the stall I got the inside on a lot of gossip that was apparently going around. From what the girls were chattering about I was able to conjure up a mental list:

1. The other new girl's name was Allison Argent, and she was hanging with the popular crew

2. There was to be a party this Friday and apparently _everyone_ was going to be there

3. Lydia Martin's outfit was to _die_ for!

4. Greenburg's eyebrows were hella fine

The last two points were more opinions than anything. I mean, I doubt Greenburg- whoever he was- didn't have eyebrows that were_ that_ fine.

As I was adding more unimportant points to my mental list I heard the bell ring, followed by the quick shuffling of girls out the door. Once I was sure everyone had left the bathroom, I came out of my hiding spot and raced for the door, successfully merging with the crowd outside it and heading towards my next class.

Apparently both Scott and Stiles had Economics and Chemistry with me, making my search for them in the cafeteria futile. Coach Finstock taught my Economics class and Mr. Harris was in charge of Chemistry, and was also the spitting image of Hades. I wish I was exaggerating when I said it, but Mr. Harris was basically a douche. I had known him all of 10 minutes, and was already dreading his Chemistry class, and the mountains of homework that I knew would come with it.

And just like that my first day of school was wrapping up. All my classes had been uneventful, for the most part, although I was able to hold a 2 minute conversation with a blonde girl in my Chemistry class, before she was ushered away from me by her friends.

Sighing, I walked through the crowded hallways of the school, pushing past the student body, and trying to make it to my locker. My hands clasped around the lock, and I racked my brain trying to remember what my combination was. I was probably standing there for a minute or two before I heard someone to my right. Raising my head I noticed that it was the other new girl. I threw a couple of quick glances her way, making sure that it was in fact Allison.

"Allison, right?" I asked the brunette, who's gaze was focused on her own locker.

When she heard her name her head snapped up, relaxing slightly when she realized it was me, a shy smile crossing her lips, "Yeah, that's me. And you're-"

"Celia," I finished for her, shooting a smile of my own. If I was going to make friends, what better way to go than with another new student?

"Right," she nodded, taking out some books from her locker, "I'm happy to know I'm not the only new girl here."

I nodded, opening my own locker, before turning back to face her, "yeah, now we have a dreadful experience to bond over."

Allison laughed, causing me to smile. Even though our banter had just started it was quickly interrupted by the entrance of another girl. I noticed her distinct hair, which shone a strawberry blonde, and the confident smile that she so effortlessly wore on her face. _This must be Lydia Martin_. Not only was she wearing very trendy clothes, but her perfume reeked with an overdose of popular.

"That jacket is absolutely _killer_! Where'd you get it?" She heard Lydia speak out, twirling a piece of hair around her finger. The way she talked and acted made me uncomfortable. It wasn't something I was particularly used to, especially since most of my previous friends happened to be guys, with one or two exceptions.

Allison, however, wasted no time answering her question. "My mom was a buyer for a boutique back in San Francisco."

Lydia nodded along to her explanation, and she looked like she was deciding whether or not Allison was worth her time. "And you are my new best friend," she finally said, before she caught my gaze.

I quickly averted my eyes to my locker, but she had already caught me eavesdropping on her conversation. I shut it closed before Lydia spoke up again, this time to me.

"Honey, that dress with that cardigan is a huge no no," she criticized, a sour look etched on her pretty little face. I noticed Allison's face pale behind her, so I kept a smile firmly on my face.

"Thanks, but I don't need your advice to dress myself," I returned sweetly, she rolled her eyes, but not before her boyfriend wrapped his arms around her, their lips locking. I aimed a small wave towards Allison, and she smiled politely, before Lydia engulfed her in her own conversation. But I tried. At least I tried. I may have failed, but I put in an effort, and that was good enough for me.

Biting my lip I turned around, spotting Scott and Stiles standing across the hallway, Scott's attention focused completely on Allison. As I was contemplating whether or not to say anything to the duo I managed to ungracefully lose my footing, toppling into a guy in front of me. (Note to self: just because you have heels doesn't mean you should wear them)

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**And a valuable lesson indeed. **

**Hope you all enjoyed the first chapter! I would love to know what you all thought of Celia, so reviews would be AWESOME. **

**I am only human so mistakes are probably everywhere, but I hope my writing wasn't too bad.**

**I tried to end the chapter with a very lame cliffhanger, but a cliffhanger nonetheless, so now you'll have to wait until next week to find out who the mystery boy is! (It's not really that exciting of a reveal) But hey- it's better than nothing! **


	3. Let's Forget Yesterday

**I am back with chapter 2! So so sorry it's very very late, but my spring break is next week so I will make up for it! I promise! Anyway, expect lots of awkward moments. I really hope you guys like this chapter! I fit in some Stiles, so hopefully that will be enjoyable. Heads up guys, this is just a filler chapter, because I wanted to experiment writing some characters. Next chapter will be the par-tay, so get ready!**

**Thank you to my incredible reviewers: Monkey gone to heaven, DarlingPeterPan, Kittycat166, Shadow-wolf78, and xXbriannaXx. You all make writing this story worth it.**

**Outfits and such are all posted on my polyvore, so be sure to check those out if you want. **

**Reviews are much appreciated.**

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Chapter 2: Let's Forget Yesterday

Whenever I imagined myself tripping into a guy, I always thought it would be just like something out of a movie, where the guy catches you right before you fall and stares longingly into your eyes as the two of you slowly get up together. Today I learned that is rarely the case. In fact, what happened to me was pretty much the opposite of what I imagined…

By the time I realized I lost my footing my body was already falling forward, and on instinct I did the only thing a short teenage girl could do. I threw my hands forward, hoping to soften the fall, except I didn't hit the ground. I hit another person. Rephrase, my hands pushed into the person standing in front of me just as he was bending over. Therefore, my hands pushed against someone's rear end, causing him to topple over along with me.

Thankfully I didn't smack my face against the cold tiles below. That was the fate of the poor boy I knocked over. A low groan escaped his lips as I tried to get my body off of his. Using the lockers as support, I quickly hauled myself up, red face and all. It took me a brief second to realize the hallway had gone quiet, and everyone's attention was focused on me. A few snickers and muffled laughs escaped some lips, causing me to desperately hope this was all just a dream, and not reality. I did not just grope someone's butt on accident. No matter how much I denied it though I had eyewitnesses to prove me wrong.

"Oh god, I am _so _sorry!" The voice that came out of my mouth didn't sound like mine. I stared down at the boy, offering him a hand, which he politely refused. (If I was in his situation I probably would too) He got up effortlessly, and I realized that he was pretty well built and probably wasn't used to being knocked over a lot, or at all.

"Sorry," I repeated once he stood up, brushing off the dust from his pants.

"It's fine. Don't worry about it." He placed a hand to his face, clearly checking to make sure everything was working properly.

"Are you sure? Because I really didn't mean to well –uh knock you over like that… I'm Celia by the way." I threw out my hand in a handshake, but I must have looked flustered because the boy raised an eyebrow at me.

"I'm Danny," he said taking my hand, to which I shot him a grateful smile.

I hadn't noticed his friend standing behind him until he spoke up. "I'm Greenburg. Nice entrance."

I let out a nervous laugh, before my eyes fell onto his face, "Nice eyebrows." And they were. I hadn't believed it when I was eavesdropping in the stall, but now that I stood facing him, all his other features paled in comparison to those thick, perfectly shaped brows.

He winked in response, throwing his arm around Danny's neck. "Well we'd love to stay and chat but lacrosse calls. See you around Celia," he said, grinning widely, before leading Danny through the hallway, sport gear in hand.

I threw one last 'I-swear-it-was-an-accident' look towards them, watching them walk away before looking around to see that people still had their eyes focused on me. Most days I try to avoid situations like these. Biting my lip I navigated my way out of the school, thankful for the cool air that hit me the second I walked through the double doors.

As I made my way through the clustered student body I found my hands slipping into the pockets of my cardigan, pulling out a beaten up iPhone 4. I lifted the screed to my face, hoping to catch any shades of red that might still have remained from my 'accident'. Unfortunately I had forgotten the screen was black, and any color that would have shown up in a regular mirror obviously didn't on a phone. Trying another tactic, I guided my hand to my left cheek, feeling the heat leaving it the second it came into contact with my cold fingers.

Breathing out a sigh I looked around the campus, only to realize I hadn't left through the main doors I walked in through this morning, and now I had to find my way back. Thankfully if you just follow the large crowd of students walking in front of you, you'd sooner or later find yourself where you ought to be.

I stood by myself by the parking lot, balancing my weight on the curb while trying to dial Ashley's number.

"Ashley!" I breathed out the second I heard the ringing stop, "Listen I don't need a ride, so no need to waste your time getting me."

"Are you getting a ride from someone?" Ashley's voice seemed distracted, and I could hear muffled conversations from her end. She must be out shopping.

"Yeah…" I lied, hoping I sounded at least somewhat convincing. The truth is I was in no mood to be asked for the whole first day of school experience, especially after what happened. I needed some space, and a walk home was enough to do the trick.

"Alright then. I'm actually out right now, but I'll be back before 6."

"Sounds good. I'll see later then," I quickly fit in before the line dropped dead. Shoving my phone back into my pocket I made my way down the sidewalk, balancing my weight on the curb. If I strained my brain enough I was sure I could remember how to get to my house, but my mind was overflowing with thoughts at the moment, so I just resorted to walking along the path with the fewest people. After walking down a couple streets, I felt my feet ache from my heels, and almost instantly I untied them, slipping my feet out and walking down the street barefoot.

After getting my flip flops stolen at a pool party and having to walk half a mile home barefoot, I was basically a pro at avoiding stepping on sharp objects that came up along the sidewalk.

It wasn't long before I realized I was lost. Coincidentally, I found myself back at the school, which meant that I had made a complete circle without realizing it. I blew a short breath as a stood at the edge of the sidewalk and decided to think about where I was headed. My house wasn't too far away from the school, well it was by car, but I wasn't exactly in a car at the moment. I stared out at the streets before me, and quickly realized where I went wrong. Instead of walking through Hall Street I went straight onto Main, leading me to make a complete 360.

I wasn't at all prepared for another long walk completely barefoot, but I guess since I brought this upon myself I had to deal with it. Fishing out my phone from the pocket of my sweater I checked the time. It was almost 4 pm, meaning that I had walked for a good hour and a half.

I readjusted the strap of my bag on my shoulder, which seemed so much heavier now. I felt my stride slow down, and was just about to give up and call Ashley for a ride when a voice perked up behind me.

"Hey!"

I turned around to find none other than Stiles, driving his baby blue jeep, a goofy smile plastered across his face. I took my eyes off him for a second to stare at his car. I couldn't believe the car I was curious about all through the summer belonged to this kid. I imagined a hot mechanic.

"Oh- Hi Stiles," I said awkwardly waving to him with the hand that was holding my shoes. It only took me a couple seconds to realize someone was sitting with him in the passenger seat. I craned my neck to spot Scott, "and Scott."

"Hey so uh- why are you walking barefoot?" Stiles asked curiously peering out from the edge of his open car window.

"I was sort of just walking home… except I strangely ended up back at school. Just shows I don't know this town as well as I thought. Plus, you try walking around in these things. They literally suck," I said lifting the shoes to emphasize my point.

"Wow well you shouldn't really be walking around barefoot. That's kind of dangerous and not to mention unsanitary. I could give you a ride if you want -I mean you don't have to if you want to keep walking. Not that I'm saying I want you to keep walking, but-"

"What Stiles means is you're free to a ride if you want one," Scott spoke out from behind him as Stiles bobbed his head in agreement.

I stared at him for a moment, putting two and two together. "Wait. I used to see your jeep all the time on my street during the summer. Do you live by me? Or does Scott? Or is there another musketeer and I'm completely off?"

"That would be Scott's house," Stiles said jerking his finger behind him. "I dropped by all the time in the summer."

"Well thanks for introducing yourself," I teased. "And I'll definitely take you up on your offer. I am so sick of walking."

Stiles nodded sheepishly before he leaped out of his car and opened the door for me. I smiled at the gesture and slipped into the passenger's seat as Scott retreated to the back.

"So why are you guys out of school so late?" I asked, curiosity getting the better of me.

"Lacrosse practice actually," Scott replied, poking his head in between the seats.

"Oh sweet. You guys are on the team? That's pretty neat. I mean I don't even know how you play it. It's the one with the long sticks right?"

Stiles and Scott exchanged a quick glace before looking at me.

"What?" I scrunched up my face in confusion. "Did I say something? Or-?"

"No- and yes lacrosse is the one with the sticks, and it's actually called a crosse," Stiles informed me.

"Like a cross- ing guard? Or cross- bow? Or like a cross- word?"

"Yup," Scott chimed in. "But it's spelt differently."

"I bet I could spell it," I announced enthusiastically. "Okay it's K-R-O-S-S!"

Stiles shook his head, "Nope."

"Okay. Then it's C-R-O-S?"

"Strike two," Scott said mimicking Stile's gesture.

"Q-U-R-O-S-S-E!"

"W-What? Why would you even think there was a Q in crosse? That's absurd," Stiles shook his head, throwing me a quick glance before focusing his eyes back on the street.

"I don't know, maybe it's a foreign word," I said, throwing my hands up in defense.

By the time Stiles pulled into my driveway I was basically a pro at the rules of lacrosse, something I never thought I would be able to say.

"Are your parents' home?" Stiles asked as he poked his head out of the car window clearly noticing the absence of a car in the driveway.

"Ah no. I live with my sister. Although I think she's still out shopping," I said casually, ignoring the small wave of silence that was beginning to fall over us.

"So I guess I'll see you guys tomorrow then," I started when nobody said anything, "thanks so much for the ride."

I flashed the two boys a smile, and got two in return. As I fished around my bag for my keys I heard the jeep back out of my driveway, and when I looked up they were gone. Quickly, I fit the key into the lock and forced open the door, almost tripping over the boxes that were scattered around inside. Ashley usually sorted out her belongings when I was away at school, so seeing boxes was not a new thing for me.

I expertly weaved around the boxes, before collapsing on the couch and turning on the television. I stared at the screen, finding absolutely nothing that piqued my interest. I ended up doing my homework, picking up my head to see the latest shenanigans Tom and Jerry were up to on the small screen.

I just finished the set of chemistry problems Harris assigned, when my phone started playing Highway to Hell I stared at it curiously. Ashley never calls me unless it's to change plans, or reschedule them. I was always the one that called just to talk, so when I saw Ashley's name flash on my phone I knew our dinner plans weren't going to happen.

"Hey," Ash's voice sounded from the other end, "so I know I promised dinner tonight, but I got a call from work, and I'm going to have to head over there earlier than usual. I'm sorry Cel, but we can always do it tomorrow."

"It's fine," I said, trying hard to hide the disappointment in my voice, "and yeah tomorrow's ok."

"Alright great. Well I got to run, so I'll see you tomorrow."

"Yeah. See you."

The second the line dropped dead I chucked my phone at the couch, burying my face under the piles of blanket that lay atop it.

* * *

My eyes opened to the sound of my alarm the next morning. Groaning, I reached my hand out to shut it off, before falling back into the comfort of my bed, eyes staring directly at the ceiling. I was not mentally prepared for another day of school. One was more than enough. One day had already proved that I was nowhere near capable enough to get through the school year.

Somehow I managed to get through the morning, choosing to wear a white t-shirt and skirt, along with a maroon cardigan and infinity scarf. I finished the outfit off with a crown of carnations.

I learned my lesson about high heels, striding into class in a pair of moccasins. I was early. I had to be, seeing as it was the first time I came to school on my bike. I estimated the ride to take a solid 30 minutes, but here I was, sitting in a desk with about two other students around me, 10 minutes to spare. I didn't know what to do with those 10 minutes. I hadn't anticipated getting them. I sank down lower in my seat, uncomfortable with all the time that still remained. I didn't have any friends to talk to, and even if I did I wouldn't exactly know what to talk about.

Biting the inside of my lip I cocked my head to the side, getting a glimpse of the girl seated a couple seats to my right. Her face was fixed directly at a textbook she had opened in front of her, casually taking notes, but never looking up from her work. Her hair was long and blonde, although she must have a hard time taming it, since its frizz was obvious. I didn't know her name but I couldn't imagine how she was already doing work when we had only been in school for a single day. My gaze then turned to the boy sitting a couple seats in front of her. His hair was black and was sticking up in weird angles all around his head. He clearly had just woken up and needed to be introduced to a comb. As much as I would have loved to be the one to provide him with one, his posture indicated that he wasn't going to answer to anyone. His head was buried in his arms, and judging by his light snores he was definitely asleep.

It wasn't long before another figure waltzed his way into the classroom. His name I remembered. Avery Montgomery made his way into the classroom confidently, but when his eyes fell upon the few of us that were seated in the room his grin dropped. "Are you lot always so dead in the mornings?"

Neither blonde girl nor sleeping boy made an attempt to look up from their seats so Avery's face was faced directly at me. "So… Cecilia was it?" He asked in his light British accent, taking the chair in front of me and staring at me so closely I felt as if I were a caged animal in a zoo. "Tell me, where'd you live before you moved into our quiet little town?"

I shifted uncomfortably in my seat, but his eyes remained intently focused on mine. "I used to live in Florida," I said simply.

Avery raised his eyebrows, "really? Well I came from Britain a few years back, though I'm sure you could tell with my accent and all. Say, how do people from Florida talk like? Shouldn't you have like a southern accent?"

"No?" I furrowed my brows taken aback by how serious he was, "people in Florida don't have to have an accent."

"Clearly, because you obviously don't. How long have you lived there then? You must have developed some sort of accent."Avery's eyes pierced into mine, his curiosity apparent. I was used to people asking me where I came from, usually because it was the most obvious conversation starter.

"About 6 months." Avery's face scrunched up in confusion and I saved him the need for asking the next obvious question. "I'm a foster kid."

My sentence ran loosely in the air for a second before Avery's face perked up in curiosity. "A foster kid, huh. So have you ever had gay foster parents? Maybe a man and man situation going on?"

"No, they were all usually composed of a woman and a man."

"Pity. But hey do you know who is gay? Our lacrosse goalie Danny." Almost instantly my face felt hot and I had a strong urge to punch Avery straight in the face. When he saw my expression he let out a laugh.

"You're a jerk you know that?" I said angrily punching him in the arm.

"Ow, -hey I was only kidding, although you really went for his butt there." He was thrown in another fit of laugher, but was interrupted by a voice that wasn't mine.

"Yeah, Avery? Would you mind just getting up from my desk?" Stile's voice rang above me.

Instantly I sank in lower in my chair. I was careful not to look at him, since my face probably still shined as red as a tomato.

"Aw man," Avery breathed out wiping at the corners of his eyes, "did you see that yesterday? I almost soiled myself," Avery turned to Stiles pointing a finger at me to indicate. I silently prayed he didn't, but he was standing on the opposite side of the hallway so it was impossible not to miss it.

"What yesterday? Nah I didn't see anything. Nope, not a thing was seen by me."

I risked a glance at Stiles, and he looked just as uncomfortable as me. He had his hands placed on his hips, eyes focused on Avery. As if on cue Avery let out a loud snort and picked himself up from Stiles's seat.

"You're no fun," he said shaking his head before he disappeared out of the room.

By now the classroom was starting to fill up with students and conversations were starting to take over the room, making it less awkward to sit through. Stiles sat in his seat without looking at me, so I began to draw. My favorite subjects to draw were flowers. I had most of them memorized. I found myself absentmindedly doodling a carnation in the corner of my notebook. By the time I finished I noted Stiles, who was anxiously tapping his foot, causing my desk to silently shake behind him. I tilted my head to the side and held my notebook back, like I always did when inspecting a piece of art. I couldn't disregard Stiles's twitching though, so I tapped him lightly on the shoulder. His whipped his head around so fast I thought it was going to come clean off his shoulders.

"Hey um thanks for you know... the thing with Avery. I know you saw everything"

"W-What? I didn't see anything. Nothing at all. Nope nothing was seen." I raised my eyebrow at him.

"Definitely did not see you fall on Danny. Nope."

"Was it funny at least?" I asked.

"No. Definitely not."

"Really? I mean I basically grabbed Danny's ass in a really bad attempt to stop myself from falling."

Stiles let out a snort which he quickly concealed into a cough. His gesture forced me into a grin.

"It's fine. I mean you'd be hurting my feelings by not saying it was funny. Avery's just being a douche about it."

I twirled the pen I was holding in my hand as Stiles worked up a response.

"Well I guess it was a teensy bit funny then," he said, using his thumb and pointer finger to indicate.

I smiled. Maybe this year wasn't going to suck as much as I thought. If having a friend made the experience more bearable, then I was on my way.

* * *

**That's that! Hopefully it wasn't too bad, and if it was I am eternally sorry. I wrote some of it on my ipod and just transferred it over so mistakes are probably everywhere. So sorry it was really short too! This was just a small filler. **

**I like the idea of incorporating songs into stories, so here's my playlist for this chapter:**

**We The Kings- Just Keep Breathing – Celia walking home alone**


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